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I don’t think Altiere is as afraid as he should be.
“Oh, I don’t know. If you step far enough out of line to piss off Don Fontana, maybe he’ll be more amenable to the idea of my taking over your territory. Especially since I don’t have the, ah—scruples—that you seem to have about mafia dealings. Once your family name is in the dirt, I’d be doing Aida a favor, really, by marrying her. No one else would.
Dante’s jaw is so tight that I’m surprised I don’t hear his teeth crack. He’s looking at Altiere as if he wants to murder him, and all I can think of is Rico, and what Dante did to him when he threatened to destroy my good name.
I can only imagine what Dante would do to someone threatening his family.
You’re carrying his child now. His blood.If I told Dante that right now, I have no doubt that this would boil over.
Maybe that would save me. Or maybe Altiere is right, and the only reason that Dante is holding himself back right now is mafia protocol, which I don’t understand. Maybe pushing him over the edge is bad for all of us—Abby included.
So I bite my tongue, and stay silent, exactly as Altiere instructed.
“You should walk away,” Dante says harshly. “And leave Emma here with me. If you do, I’ll overlook what you’ve said to me so far.”
Altiere chuckles. “I don’t think so. I’ve only just started to enjoy her. She’s very talented with her tongue. I can’t wait to find out what the rest of her feels like.”
It’s a lie so blatant that I can hardly keep my expression smooth. It’s only fear of what Altiere will do if I give away the game that keeps me from losing my composure. I haven’t touched him, and he hasn’t touched me; the only relief I’ve had so far in this waking nightmare. But he’s determined to taunt Dante by making him think otherwise.
Dante’s gaze is nearly black with rage. “Youwillpay for this,” he snarls—and it’s that response that makes me feel sure that Altiere was right about one thing at least. There are consequences to dons going at each other in public.
“Maybe.” Altiere smirks. “I doubt it. After all, if you come for me, Fontana will see that you pay. He won’t sanction a war overthiswoman. No matter how much you enjoy her.”
Dante’s gaze flicks to mine, and I can see the pain in his face—how difficult it is for him to walk away from this, to leave me in Altiere’s hands even a moment longer.
“Iwillget to you, Emma,” he murmurs, his words as heavy and solemn as any vow. It sends a shock of feeling through me, my chest tightening until it’s all I can do not to let the tears well up. “I’ll find a way. I promise.”
His gaze flicks down to my still-flat stomach, and a dart of fear jolts through me.Does he know? Something about the look in his eyes, the way his mouth tightens as he looks back at mine, makes me think that he does. And as Dante’s gaze meets mine for one moment that feels as if it stretches out for so much longer, I wonder if I still feel the same way that I did before.
I can see in his face that he’s going to do whatever is necessary to get to me. I believe, without question, that if he can save me, he will. No protocol or rules are going to stand in his way. They might stop him tonight, but he’ll find a way around them.
Our child might be lucky to have a father like that—someone who would love and protect them so fiercely. My own father loved me that much—he showed it in a different way, of course, but the ferocity was still there. I want the same for my baby.
But it doesn’t change what Dante is. The world he inhabits. The one keeping you prisoner right now.
Altiere’s hand on my arm tightens again, and I realize he’s speaking. “I’m afraid I’ve let you take up too much of my time,” he tells Dante archly. “I have other people to speak with. We’ll talk later, perhaps.”
I can see the barely contained rage on Dante’s face as we walk away. Altiere tugs me along before I can linger, the pull on my arm almost painful. “You’re here withme,” he whispers in a low, menacing tone. “You can stop staring at him.”
“I think you should be more afraid of him than you are.” I swallow hard, trying to keep a pleasant smile on my face. “He’s not going to let this go.”
“If he’s smart, he will.” Altiere pulls me closer, stopping to turn me so that his hands drop to my hips. It’s all a part of the show, but it’s all I can do not to flinch. “Look happier, Emma. A little more lustful, perhaps. Or I might have to make a call.”
A jolt of fear hits me, and I force myself to reach up, touching the front of his shirt as I look up at him with what I hope is an appropriately adoring expression on my face. A flash comes back to me of the last party I was at, the one with Dante, where everything I felt was so real. Where I washappy.
Altiere isn’t going to stop until he baits Dante into a situation that will end with him disgraced or dead—probably both. The realization cuts through me like a knife, and I swallow hard, trying my best not to let my fear and desperation show on my face. I’m caught between two men who want each other destroyed—and I’m caught between my own desires, too. A part of me wants to run as far from all of this as I can get, until no one involved with any of this can ever find me again.
And another part of me, now that I’ve seen Dante, never wants to leave his side again.
The rest of the night passes in a blur. I stay next to Altiere, out of compulsion instead of choice, and try to focus on appearing as if I’m happy to be there. It means that I miss a good deal of what he discusses with the others he stops to talk to, but I don’t really care.
If I escape this, it won’t be because I figured out information about what he’s doing. I don’t have a manipulative mind, or the ability to negotiate my way out of a situation like this. I’ve neverbeenin a situation like this. It never even occurred to me to consider that I might be.
I feel as if I’m holding my breath until the moment Altiere and I slip back into his car. Even then, I can’t entirely relax. I’m starting to think I might never be able to again.
“You did well enough.” Altiere looks at me dispassionately from the other side of the car. “There will be something else for us to go to soon enough. Campano can only restrain himself for so long.”
I look out of the window at the city passing by, ignoring him. There’s nothing I can say that would make it any better, so I choose instead to say nothing at all. But the silence allows me to think, and my chest aches as we drive, watching it all go by.
